


Pie and Friendship

by liairene



Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [25]
Category: Emma - Jane Austen, Persuasion - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baking, F/M, Modern Era, Small Towns, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liairene/pseuds/liairene
Summary: Just a bit of Thanksgiving pie-making fluff from Highbury
Relationships: Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth, Elinor Dashwood/Edward Ferrars, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse
Series: A Visitor's Guide to Highbury [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/908481
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Pie and Friendship

“Do you know how many pounds of apples are currently in my kitchen?”

George looked up at his friend. “I’m going to wager that you’re going to tell me.”

Will sighed. “I don’t even know. But my whole kitchen is filled with pumpkins and apples and all sorts of things.”

“For what?” queried Ed.

“For pie,” George answered. “The queen of pies has to make our yearly Thanksgiving rations.”

“She does that at home?”

Will nodded. “Apparently she does, but I’ve never lived with her while she was doing it before.”

“I would thought she would have used the shop’s kitchen.”

Will shook his head. “She never does personal baking in the work kitchen. I think that it’s probably against health code, but I know that it’s also against her personal ethical code.”

“How many pies does she have to make?”

Will thought for a moment. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty, I think.”

“Jeepers.”

“You should see how much pie dough is in our freezer. It’s absurd.”

“Are you going to help her?” George asked.

Will shrugged. “I probably should. I can at least mash pumpkin or slice apples if nothing else.”

“Or grind nuts,” George suggested.

“Grind nuts?” Ed repeated.

“Or whatever you do to prep pecan pies,” his friend replied. “I don’t know. I don’t make pies. I just eat them.”

Will smiled. “We’ve noticed.”

“Chris is the only man on the pie squad,” George added. “Other than him, it’s an all-girl squad.”

“Maybe I should change that,” Will said. “I could learn to make streusel topping.”

“It might be hard,” Ed offered.

Will shrugged. “It might be, but I can learn new things. You both know that I can cook and bake.”

Ed paused. “Hold on. Who made the pies last year?”

“Do you remember last year?” George queried. “Everything was insane.”

Will nodded. “Oliver had just died. Elsa had just had Clara and was also teaching. I don’t remember if she even made the pies. I think that the kitchen at the Longbourn did almost everything last year.”

“Chris might have helped?”

“I think that he did. I know that Elsa made a lot of pie dough, but I don’t think that she did anything more. Things were a little crazy around our house last Thanksgiving.” Will paused for a moment. “But either way, she’s making all those pies in our kitchen this year.”

“That’s insane,” Ed commented.

George shrugged. “That’s Elsa. She’s the pie goddess.”

* * *

The day before Thanksgiving found the apron-clad pie goddess in the kitchen of her home at six o’clock in the morning. “Cripes, Elsa, our daughter isn’t even awake yet,” her husband commented as he fumbled his way into the kitchen.

She shrugged as she poured a cup of coffee. “That may be, but pie waits for no man. Or woman or baby; basically, pie doesn’t wait for anyone.”

“What time is Chris getting here?”

“In half an hour, he had to stop and get cranberries as soon as Weston’s opens.”

“Cranberries?”

“We’re making a cranberry curd tart this year.”

Will made a face. “That one’s new.”

She passed him a cup of coffee. “We saw it online. We thought it sounded fun and different.”

“We? You and Chris?”

“Annie and me, we’ve been looking for a new pie idea to spice things up. We haven’t changed things up in a couple of years.”

“How often do you change things up?”

Elsa shrugged and took a long sip of coffee. “I guess as often as we feel like it, which isn’t very often. But we like being open to the idea of changing it up.”

He nodded. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Well, you should eat breakfast first.”

“And then?”

She pointed at the table with a knife. “Can you please core and slice all of those apples?”

“All of them?” he repeated.

Elsa looked at her husband. “Well, you’ll have help eventually but it does have to happen.”

“That’s a lot of apples.”

“I know.”

Will leveled his blue gaze on his wife. “You want me to core and slice all of those apples?”

“Be glad that I’m not asking you to peel them too?” she offered hopefully.

He smiled. “Okay, where’s my breakfast?”

She pointed at the stove. “There’s bacon and eggs on the stove. Let me know if you need toast.”

“What are you doing?”

“Prepping pumpkins,” she said flatly.

“That sounds fun?”

Elsa stuck her knife into the top of a pumpkin. “It’s not. It’s really not.” She grunted and a moment later pulled the top off the pumpkin. “This is not easy. Why do I do this? They sell canned pumpkin at the store. I could just buy that. It would be easier.”

Will looked at his wife over the rim of his coffee cup. “Because that’s not your style; you do nothing by half-measures, and you wouldn’t be as satisfied with your end result if you used canned pumpkin instead of roasting your own pumpkins.”

“I got them from my dad’s garden,” she replied wiping her forehead with the back of a pumpkin covered hand. “It’s fresh and local and perfect.”

Will smiled. “It’s very you, Elsa.”

She smiled faintly in return. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“I know.”

“But thankfully this year will be more peaceful for everyone. We haven’t had any major traumatic events recently and the only couple with a newborn baby isn’t dealing with any unexpected upheaval in their daily lives this year.”

“Thank goodness,” Will replied settling himself into a chair to begin coring and cutting apples. “I can’t imagine Emma dealing with any kind of major stress on top of a new baby.”

Elsa shook her head. “She would NOT have handled it well at all.”

Any possible reply was cut off by the doorbell ringing. Will hopped up from the table and returned a few minutes later followed by Chris Brandon carrying a grocery bag and a drink carrier. “I hit Weston’s and stopped by the Knit Wit before coming over here. Annie sends compensatory coffee for pie makers.”

“We already have coffee here,” Will told him.

“I figured as much, but I had stopped to grab breakfast. Anyway, she sent a chai latte for me, an almond milk latte for Will, and a pumpkin crème brulee latte for Elsa.”

“Kids, I’m going to be on a sugar high now,” Elsa remarked as she took the cup from Chris. “It’s gonna be great.”

Her husband shook his head. “This will all end well for everyone.”

“Pie making day always does,” Chris replied darkly.

“Of course it does,” Elsa told him. “Now get to work.”

“What should I do?”

“Pecan pie; ingredients are on the island or in the fridge.”

“What about pie crusts?”

She pointed her knife at the refrigerator. “I’ve done bottom cases for all of the pies; they’re all in the freezer. And don’t worry. I put parchment paper in between every one before I stacked them.”

Chris nodded. “I only have one question left.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s the soundtrack for the day?”

“Silence until the baby wakes up, then we’ll sort it out.”

* * *

The baby woke up around seven-thirty. “Even the baby likes sleeping in sometimes, I guess,” her mother said as she brought little Clara into the kitchen.

“Papa!” the toddler called as soon as she saw her father. “Papa! Papa! Papa!”

Will put down the roasted pumpkin that he was scraping into a bowl. “Yes, Clara? What can I do for you?”

“Papa!” she said eagerly reaching her chubby arms towards him. “My papa!”

He took the wriggling toddler from her mother. “What’s happening, Clara? What do you want?”

She clamped her small hands on his bearded cheeks with an open-mouthed smile. “Papa!”

“Do you want breakfast, Clara?” Elsa asked her daughter. “Do you want to eat?”

Clara reached one hand out to her mother while keeping the other one on her father’s face.

“Does this mean that I’m going to have to take a break from scraping pumpkins?” Will asked.

His wife shrugged as she gave him Clara’s breakfast. “It would seem so. Chris can take over from you for a while.”

“Are we keeping her here with us all day?” Chris queried.

Elsa shook her head. “No, Lily is coming to pick her up around eight. She’ll keep her until she has to go to work around four.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Yeah, I figure that we should be done by then.”

Chris nodded. “Stands to reason.”

* * *

It wasn’t actually Lily who brought Clara back but Thomas Bennet instead. “I’m here to deliver my favorite grandchild and take as many of the pies as I can back to the hotel.”

“Thanks, Dad. We really appreciate it.”

He waved his hand. “I know that you have a big fridge and that you clear out space. But it’ll be much easier for you guys tomorrow if you’re not trying to transport twenty pies and a hyperactive thirteen-month-old.”

“What if you take all of the apple and pumpkin pies?” Elsa offered. “And we can bring the cranberry tart, the three pecan pies, and the mixed berry pie.”

“Sounds good to me,” her father said. “But I’ll need some help loading my car up.”

“You’ve got it.” Chris began shoving his feet back into his boots quickly.

Will followed suit and then grabbed both his own coat and Chris’s.

“How many pies do you have left?” Thomas queried.

Elsa pointed to the table. “Everything is done except the cranberry tart and the mixed berry pie.”

“How do you do it?”

“Start early, caffeinate often, and work with a willing team,” she grinned. “Also, you can bake four pies at a time in this oven. It goes pretty quickly on that account.”

“We might have bought this house for the kitchen space,” Will added.

“Just the kitchen?” his father-in-law asked.

Will shrugged. “And maybe a couple of other things, the bathrooms are pretty nice. The view from the backyard is okay.”

“The living room and dining room are pretty good for entertaining,” Elsa added.

Thomas shook his head. “You two were meant for each other.”

Will clapped his hands together. “Let’s the pies loaded up. Will you need help from us at the Longbourn?”

“Oh, no, no, I’ll have the staff help me with that. Cam and Mary Frances are around too. Or maybe Charlie could put himself to use.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Chris said.

“I’m sure, but you’re both too kind. You’ve worked very hard today from what I know of pie making day over here.”

“It was a long day,” Elsa said clapping a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “You were a real trooper.”

“And we’re not done yet,” Chris added. “We still have to clean the kitchen.”

* * *

It was more than an hour later before the last of the pies were safely cooling on the kitchen counter. The kitchen was clean. The oven was empty. The dishwasher was running, and the draining board was loaded with anything that didn’t fit or go in the dishwasher. Chris slumped into a gray wingback chair in the living room. Will flopped on the couch. And Elsa settled herself on the floor with Clara. “We’re done,” she said weakly. “We are done.”

“Finally,” Chris sighed. “We did it. And we’re done before six o’clock.”

“What are we doing about dinner?” Elsa asked.

“Erik is dropping off pizza around six.”

“Good man,” Will sighed as Lord Peter, Elsa’s large black cat, settled himself on Will’s chest. “Good man.”

“Is he bringing us Elsa pizza?” The Green Dragon’s menu featured a pie named The Elsa Pizza, which was topped with all of Elsa’s favorite things, all of which happened to both locally sourced and things that could be procured year-round. It topped with pesto sauce, sundried tomatoes, chicken, mozzarella, a balsamic drizzle, and arugula leaves. Annie also had a namesake pie; hers was a tomato sauce topped with an Italian spice blend, chunks of roasted tomato, garlic, mozzarella, parmesan, and basil leaves.

Chris laughed. “I think so.”

Elsa grinned. “Excellent.”

“Erik knows us well.”

* * *

The next day, Will and Elsa only had to transport four pies and their very active toddler to the Longbourn for Thanksgiving dinner. Elsa handled the toddler while Will drafted Ed into service helping him transport the pies into the building. “Do you think that we’ll have enough pie?” Ed asked.

Will shrugged. “There’s only sixteen more pies inside, but I think we’ll be okay.”

“Twenty pies that should each produce about eight slices each,” Ed calculated. “That’ll give us one hundred sixty slices of pie. And there’ll be how many of us?”

“Thirty-five? Maybe forty? That sounds about right.”

“So, we’re not likely to run out of pie.”

“It’s the Bennet family Thanksgiving dinner. We’re not likely to run out of much of anything,” Will remarked.

“There’s even a strong likelihood of leftovers,” Elsa said. “Now let’s head inside where it’s warm. Come on, Clara bear. Let’s get you inside.”

“Oh-tay,” the little girl said.

* * *

By the end of the afternoon, there wasn’t much pie left at all. “I’m taking one of these home with me,” Erik said snatching up a whole apple pie.

George grabbed a pumpkin pie. “And I’m taking one of these.”

“Really, George?” Elsa said. “A pumpkin pie for you? I totally would have pegged you as an apple man.”

“I’m living on the edge,” he replied with a smile. “Your salted caramel apple pie is amazing, but your maple pumpkin pie is to die for. Plus, you stock the apple pie at the shop. This is my only chance to get this pie.”

Elsa shook her head. “Hey, if that’s what makes you happy…”

“You know how I feel about pie.”

“I do.”

“And she knows how I feel about pumpkin pie,” Emma inserted as she wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist. “I probably shouldn’t admit this but I definitely had two generous slices today.”

“It’s Thanksgiving, Em,” Erik told her. “It’s our national eating holiday.”

“And Theo will get some of the pie along the way,” George added taking his son from his wife. “Don’t worry about it, babe. Also, it’s Thanksgiving. Calories don’t count today.”

She smiled blithely. “Just keep telling me that.”

Her husband kissed Emma’s cheek. “Gladly, my love.”

“Should we take any of the pies home with us?” Will asked his wife.

She laughed and shook her head. “I’ve had enough of pie for a while. And I have to make more at the shop tomorrow. Let other people have the leftover pie.” Elsa paused for a moment. “But I will gladly take some of the leftover stuffing. Oh, and some of the Brussels sprouts and root vegetables, those were amazing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Will told her.

“And Annie, I’m thinking that I’m going to whack up some challah tomorrow.”

Her business partner grinned. “That sounds excellent.”

“I might do a couple of flavors of filled one too. We’ll see how the day goes.”

“I like the way your brain works.”

“That’s why we work so well together.”

Annie smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you whip up tomorrow.”

“And I might do some pesto prosciutto buns for Small Business Saturday too.”

Annie nodded. “That sounds excellent.”

“I might even stop by for those,” Erik added.

George nodded. “Those are excellent. I’ll definitely stop by and grab a couple on Saturday.”

Elsa smiled. “We’re so lucky to have such good friends.”

“Hey, as we all know, friendship is what gives value to life.”

“That and several dozen pounds of apples on our kitchen table,” Will added. “Pie and friendship, that’s what gives value to life.”

His wife shook her head and laughed.

* * *

The End...for now.


End file.
